


One Card Short of a Full Deck

by Anonymous



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Blood, Eye Trauma, Gen, Horror, Major Character Injury, Misogyny, Pre-Movie: The Old Guard (2020), Resurrection, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:47:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25456477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A serial killer targets Andy. It doesn't go well.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56
Collections: Anonymous, Battleship 2020, Battleship 2020 - Yellow Team





	One Card Short of a Full Deck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flowersforgraves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/gifts).



He scrolled through the hashtags, chuckling. Who would have thought a so-called "loser" like him would ever be a Twitter trending topic? But everyone was talking about him. #TheCardKiller #TheCardSharp #WhoIsTheCardKiller #StopTheCardMurders #QueenOfHeartsKiller and more. He particularly liked the Card Sharp nickname, but public opinion seemed to be settling on Card Killer. So unimaginative.

There was a flicker of movement outside his car. He looked up eagerly. Yes, it was her, walking down the street with that swagger like she owned it, dark hair ruffled by the wind. She didn't look at him or his car as she went by. She never did. Women like her never looked twice, or even once, at a man like him. Their scornful dismissal would be their downfall.

If he half-closed his eyes he could pretend she was Kerry. A little shorter, a little (if he was being honest) more fit, and Kerry would never have worn her hair like that. But he could only kill Kerry once. Now substitutes would have to do. 

.

It was always easier than he expected it to be. If only everyone knew how easy it was to knock a woman unconscious and get her limp body into your car... well, then he wouldn't be a trending topic, because all these bitches would be getting what they deserved, instead of a select few.

She woke up as he was hauling her out to his special place in the woods. One moment she was dead weight over his shoulder. The next she was screaming "What the fuck are you doing!" and kicking and thrashing. Startled, he dropped her. She landed with a groan, rolling onto her back and yanking at the rope that bound her wrists and ankles. She was strong. He was glad he'd tied her tightly.

"We're almost there," he said. "I can carry you or drag you. Your choice." 

"Go to hell," she spat. Her eyes were filled with loathing, but he was used to that, let it roll off his back. She'd be begging for her life soon enough. 

"Dragging it is." He grabbed the rope at her ankles and started to pull. She struggled futilely, cursing at him, yelling as though anyone could hear her out here.

Soon they reached the special place. It was a lovely clearing full of bluebells. A bee droned somewhere. Kerry's noises had frightened away the birds, but soon she'd be quiet and they'd come back. He liked to sit in the special place with his girls and listen to the birds sing. It was peaceful.

He dropped her ankles, made sure she hadn't grabbed a sharp rock or anything that could cut the rope, and went to unpack his backpack, keeping an eye on her. She kept fighting to get free, rolling around and panting. A struggler, a striver, like Kerry had been. So much energy, all wasted on women's noise and nonsense.

He took out the Ka-bar and walked back over to her. She glared at him, unafraid. "Is that all you've got, asshole?"

"Your mouth is filthy," he chided. 

"I'll wash it out with your blood," she said, sounding like she meant every word.

He slapped her across the face. "Know your place!"

Her head rocked back, but she grinned fiercely through the blood of her split lip. "You have no idea what you're doing," she said.

He was getting upset. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. This wasn't how it had gone before. She was supposed to be scared. Why wasn't she scared?

He straddled her and held the blade of the knife to her pale neck. Her grin only got wider, gleeful, unearthly. "Thanks," she said, and she whipped her head around and cut her own throat. 

He stood there in shock as her scarlet blood poured over the gleaming steel. "No!" he yelled at the woman as she choked and bled out. "No, you can't take this from me!" But she already had, and in moments she was limp, eyes staring sightlessly at the beautiful bluebell meadow.

His cock was just as limp, denying him any hope of the pleasure he'd been anticipating for days. He growled in fury. "Emasculating bitch," he snarled, kicking savagely at her body. But then he felt a pang, because now she really did look like Kerry, all bloody and silent. Maybe... maybe if he just went through the rest of his ritual, maybe he could still get a bit of satisfaction out of it. If nothing else, at least she was dead, the way a woman should be.

He carefully sliced through the ropes at her ankles and her wrists. He arranged her with her arms crossed over her chest and legs together, her body nestled in the flowers as though they were the blue satin lining of a coffin. Finally, he took the queen of hearts from his breast pocket and tucked it into her hand. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Sweet dreams, Kerry," he whispered.

"My name is Andy," she said.

As his brain froze with horror, she sprayed a mouthful of blood into his face and stabbed the corner of the card into his right eye. He screamed, reeling back, clutching at his face. Through his good eye, he saw the dead woman get to her feet and pick up his knife. "How?" he gurgled. "How?"

She buried his own knife in his chest. As his heart stuttered to a halt and his vision blurred, he faintly heard her say, "Black jack on red queen, motherfucker."

The bluebell meadow was still and peaceful. After a few minutes, a robin began to sing.


End file.
